


A Sky Torn Asunder

by MaVheraan



Series: Piercing Gold [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 11:11:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9232280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaVheraan/pseuds/MaVheraan
Summary: Maxwell Aurelius Trevelyan; a glowing mark on his hand, strangers demanding answers, missing memories, and a sky torn asunder.. what awaits him?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is to act as a prologue for my OC, Maxwell Aurelius Trevelyan. This Fic will follow the events of DA:I from his PoV, and include lots of romance with his LI- Cullen.

“Fists filled with sorrow.” Cole whispered.. “Conviction clinging, reassurance fleeing.” The boy’s eyes glanced up to the moonlit sky, legs kicking over the ledge of Haven’s wall. “Refusing to risk breaking, but doesn’t see that someone will keep him together.”

 

Pain- excruciating pain, radiating somewhere on the left of my body. It was all Maxwell could do to make out where the injury was as the darkness danced behind his eyelids. 

Regaining consciousness was never an easy task, Maxwell had taken tumble after tumble as a child- he was clumsy and despite his Mother’s fits he would not stay in the safety of a library- he loved to chase after his Brothers as they played around the castle.. even though the result was nearly always a “catastrophe upon her poor babe” according to his Mother, though Maxwell looked at it as nothing more than a bump to the head.

This was different though, no recollection of the tumble that had him now reeling to even open his eyes.. aside from the burning sensation he could now at least pinpoint to his left hand.

He flinched as a sudden waft of cold air entered the room, a door opened- and just as soon closed with a violent force. A Sudden awareness that there were more people in the room than he knew swept over him, two sets of footsteps echoed forwards from where the door closed.

For the first time, Maxwell opened his eyes. He was met with the unpleasant sight, that being a tower of a woman- short black hair and Warrior’s garb.. with a look on her face that would simply have skewered him if looks could do such a thing. She approached, with another woman in tow- a hood over her head, though he could make out red locks peeking through.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now. The Conclave is destroyed; everyone who attended is dead- except for you.” Maxwell shifted his gaze from examining the red haired woman, realizing now that the Warrior was circling him as she spoke- settling in front of him and looking expectantly at him for a response.

Still reeling, he couldn’t do more than successfully process what the Warrior had just told him. Dead. Everyone at the Conclave is dead? THE CONCLAVE, OF COURSE! Memories came rushing back in a flood, he had attended the Conclave on behalf of the Ostwick Circle of Magi, he was there.. with both friends and mentors alike. But the memories stopped, as abruptly as they had began- nothing else came, he couldn’t recall anything else.

He looked up to match her gaze, tears welling in his eyes and he worked to stop the world from flipping on its axis right then and there.

“D-dead, everyone at the Conclave.. they’re gone?” he all but rasped, tears flowing freely down his cheeks and pooling on his hands. He looked down, finally noticing the hand that’s pain had brought him back to consciousness. A green light emanated from it, the pain having dulled to a throbbing pulse- his eyes widened as he fought a yelp from escaping his throat. “What the hell..” he thought to himself.

“Explain THIS.” the Warrior grabbed his hand, abruptly pulling him from thought as a pulse of pain traveled up his arm at the contact.

“I-I can’t.” he replied, filled with the same questions she had. He then glanced at the woman, tears having stopped flowing- her scowl still painted across its canvas, not having let up at all.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU CAN’T?” She exclaimed, making Maxwell flinch as a result. He was very unaccustomed to such confrontation. His Mother never raised her voice with him as a child.. and as an adult his charm left him never on the receiving end of displeasure.

Lips quivering, he managed to muster his voice; “I don’t know what THAT is!” he cried- praying to Andraste she would let up and realize he wasn’t lying. Though no such luck befell him, he all but fell apart at the seams as she lunged forward and grabbed his shoulders;

“You’re LYING!” She yelled, caring not that her captive was crumbling at her interrogation. He couldn’t tell if she was hoping for a more sinister answer, but Maxwell had none to give- he was being completely transparent, he knew not what had happened or what this-this MARK on his left hand was.

The red haired woman that Maxwell had taken note of earlier stepped forward in that instance and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her backwards- causing her to release her grip on his shoulders.

“We need him, Cassandra.” She said, no hint of emotion in her voice.

Cassandra, that was the Warrior’s name- Maxwell took note of that. He looked at the pair, “I DON’T understand. I swear I am just as confused as you both are!” He yelped, a pleading tint apparent in the cry.

The red haired woman was now standing in front of him, “Do you remember what happened? How this began?” she asked, voice still empty of any emotion that could reassure Maxwell he wasn’t going to get lunged at again.

He closed his eyes, quickly attempting to summon forth any memories that he could regarding the events that led him to this point.

“I remember.. running. Things were.. chasing me.” The pair were still watching him intently, Cassandra circling him once more. “And.. a woman.” Maxwell concluded.

“A woman?” She parroted, Maxwell could finally discern some emotion in her voice- hope? Was that it? The notion slipped from him before he could finish deciphering her as he remembered more.

“She.. reached out to me, but then- AGH!” The memory stopped, giving no more- it slipped through his fingers like find sand.

Cassandra finished circling him, and walked towards the red haired woman- “Go to the forward camp Leliana, I will take him to the Rift.” Leliana, that was the other woman’s name Maxwell noted.

He glanced up, Leliana retreating from the room and Cassandra approaching him; then kneeling and grabbing his right arm. “What.. DID happen?” he asked, muscles finally releasing a bit of the tension and terror as her grip was much gentler than before.

“It.. will be easier to show you.” She replied, Maxwell caught a hint of sorrow in her voice as she said it- then lead him from the room. He proceeded to prepare himself, whatever had happened was enough to make this ferocious woman shift from pure rage to a solemn demeanor and that filled his muscles with terror once more.

The pair walked through the doors, heading towards what he believed was an exit from the building. As they walked, Maxwell took note of every inch of his surroundings- he realized they were walking through a dungeon, stone walls and a dampness nauseatingly present in the long corridor. They then proceeded to climb a pair of stairs- and were then in a completely polar space.

A Chantry, Maxwell noted to himself- the warmth of the space, as well as the ambient energy gave it away. He had spent too much time throughout his youth in these places to not be able to immediately discern them from other spaces. His muscles, eased once more- for the last time he hoped, as his shoulders had begun to cramp from the fluctuating stress lying in them.

They continued to walk, and the warmth retreated as they exited the building and into the cold- the sudden brightness catching Maxwell off-guard and eliciting him shielding his eyes until they could adjust. As his eyes regained focus he looked up- and what he saw, he decided, was both the most beautiful and most terrifying thing he had ever seen.  
A glowing, maelstrom of an abyss floated in the sky- swirling the land around it. Maxwell noted it was the same violent green as his hand, which puzzled him- though he got the overwhelming sense he would figure out the correlation sooner than he realized.

“We call it the Breach. It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It’s not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave.” Cassandra explained, turning to look him in the eyes. Maxwell sucked in his breath, seeing very plainly the pain in her eyes as she admitted the events to himself.. though he suspected it was the first time she had said it aloud to herself as well.

“An explosion can do that?” Maxwell retorted, many emotions pooling into the words- disbelief, fear, awe.

“This one did. Unless we act, the breach may grow until it swallows the world.” Cassandra said, stated so matter-of-factly Maxwell realized it was her Warrior nature kicking in- suppressing the emotion he had seen in her eyes and returning her to a level headed state that kept the Templar’s Maxwell had grown up being surrounded by on guard.

His thoughts were violently interrupted as the maelstrom they referred to as “The Breach” pulsed, energy rippling with such force that it sent waves of energy into the space around it. Maxwell’s left hand, which had been all but calm since awakening roared back to life.. shooting agonizing pain up his arm that made his entire body ache furiously. He cried out in pain and sank to his knees as the mark simmered down once more.

“Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads… and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this but there isn’t much time.” Cassandra informed him. She was now kneeling in front of him, a hint of concern flashing across her face before the steely determination reclaimed it’s place.

Maxwell looked at her, tears welling in his eyes as he shook of the ache from the assault of his mark. “I truly do not know how this happened, or how I could fix this- but I will help anyway that I can.” He spoke, conviction ringing in his voice that took the woman aback. 

Cassandra pulled him to his feet, and proceeded to escort him throughout what he now realized was a town of sorts. As he glanced around to take in his surroundings he noted that multitudes of scowls and rage filled faces glaring at him. “They have decided your guilt. They need it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and templars. She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead.” She said, both emotion and pity filling her voice once more as the steely shell cracked.

“I will do whatever it takes.” He said, shaking off the glares and inhaling deeply. Then, for the first time he felt the fear leave him- the conviction, and reassurance that had gotten him to this point filling his soul once more. Memories pulsed in his mind; his family sending him off to the circle at 10, pride in their eyes where most families would have been filled with fear or sorrow. Another flashed, overcoming his harrowing at age 12- having become one of the youngest individuals in the history of the Free Marches to become a full fledged Member of the Circle. A final memory, being recognized as a leader at age 17- just one year ago, and being named First Enchanter, First KNIGHT Enchanter of the Ostwick Circle of Magi-

He was no victim of circumstance, and he cursed himself for taking so long to stoke the fire that he held within him. He would see this through, and prove to these people that he was not the reason for this- he KNEW he wasn’t.

Cassandra led and he followed, walking through the town and then out of it- passing many soldiers, emotional people, and bodies wrapped tightly in cloth. As Cassandra led him out of the final gate, which prompted her to turn to Maxwell and say; “We lash out, like the sky. But we must think beyond ourselves, as she did.. until the breach is sealed.” He nodded in response, thinking of those that he had accompanied to the Conclave- and he shared a moment of pride and determination with the woman as they silently agreed they would fight to fix the mess that took so many from them.

“We lash out, like the sky. But we must think beyond ourselves, as she did. Until the breach is sealed.” Cassandra says as she pulls out a dagger from the back of her belt. “There will be a trial. I can promise no more. Come. It is not far.” She concludes as she cuts Maxwell’s bindings.

“Where are you taking me?” He asks, rubbing at his wrists- silently grateful for being without bounds.

“Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach.” She responded, urging him to continue on the path with an urgent demeanor.

They continued on at her behest, travelling along the mountain path and passing one final gate- this went on for quite some time until they were interrupted by Maxwell’s mark flaring up once again- pulling him to the ground as he roared in agony. Cassandra rushed to his side, seeing him writhe and hold in cusses as he waited for the pain to pass.  
She helps him back to his feet, looks at his mark- then to him and says; “The pulses are coming faster now. The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face.”

Maxwell looks at her, still being filled with a pool of emotions at the situation. “How did I survive the blast?” he asks her, uneasiness resting on his generally serene features.

“They said you.. stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious. They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was. Everything farther in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I suppose you’ll see soon enough.” Cassandra replies, he can feel her linger when talking about the woman- a similar reaction to the way the red haired woman’s voice, Leliana’s voice let a hint of emotion slip on the topic as well.

He nods to her, silently taking note of the information- his brain scouring for answers in the background as they continue to walk. Until they come to a bridge, few soldiers jogging past them on urgent business. They make it about halfway onto the linking path before Maxwell caught a rush of sound, paired with a violent burst of green- and the next thing he knew he was tumbling down into the frozen ravine below.

He felt ice beneath him, and moved to roll off of his side as he heard Cassandra rush to her feet not far from him and draw her sword. That had him at attention, his fight or flight kicking in as he sensed danger- “Stay behind me!” she roared, as a small vortex that looked like it was surrounded in crystals pooled on the ice.. bringing forth a violently hideous looking creature Maxwell had learned to call Shades appear.

Cassandra rushed forward to meet the creature and fight. Maxwell’s composure returning as his fight or flight settled firmly to fight as his Knight-Enchanter training took over his senses. What seemed like as soon as he moved, he was met with a violent crashing as another vortex began to pool in the ice- Maxwell scanned around him, knowing full well that it was critical he find something to defend himself with.. NOW.

His eyes landed on a staff no more than a yard from where he stood, wedged in between two fallen crates that had seemingly tumbled into the ravine along with Cassandra and he. He rushed towards it, took hold and pumped his mana into the staff- bringing the top roaring to life the same moment a Shade rushed forth from the small crystallized pool on the ice.

The battle was short lived, as Cassandra had proceeded to make quick work of the initial Shade and then goad the second one to attack her. Maxwell’s battle sense, while even without his Spirit Blade was exceptional and they made quick work of the minor demons.

As they struck down the second Shade, Cassandra turned to him- sword still drawn and boomed; “Drop your weapon. Now.” The command took Maxwell aback, but he met her gaze and battled with himself briefly on how to reply.

He was tired of being at the mercy of others, especially as both a respected and distinguished First Enchanter but it dawned on him that now was the time to allow Cassandra to retain control as he still needed to prove trustworthiness to the Woman.

“All right. I’ll disarm.” He said, pushing as much calm and submission into his voice as he could- while holding his hands up and moving to lay the staff down.

He was shocked to see her demeanor ease, as she moved to sheathe her sword and say; “Wait! I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless.” He proceeded to stand back up and latch the staff onto his back. Maxwell nodded to Cassandra, both of their postures releasing tension as they held a tentative trust between them.

The proceeded to move forward through the valley, having to make up for being thrown from the bridge.. and needing to resume travelling for the breach. The journey was a simple task; they were met with two more groupings of minor demons which they dispatched with ease. Cassandra on occasion informed Maxwell of more info, their trust in one another slowly building as they battled and she gave him more info regarding the Conclave that had been kept from him. He absorbed everything quickly, and soon they were approaching a tall stone path- the clashing of swords and cries of demons ever close.

“We’re getting close to the rift. You can hear the fighting.” She informed him, picking up her pace as they climbed the stairs.

“Who’s fighting?” He yelled, trying to project over the sound of the fight that they were approaching.

“You’ll see soon. We must help them.” She yelled over her shoulder, soon the sounds were all they could hear.

Fighting ensued as they ran into a group of individuals and soldiers fighting a group of minor demons, which seemed to be entering their world via a large crystalline vortex that was ever shifting and moving- it dawned on Maxwell that this is why they referred to them as “breaches”, they were direct links into the fade and that is what gave them such an unnatural quality.

They fought off their attackers, and as Maxwell shot out a final barrage of frosty energy to finish a Wraith- an Elvhen Apostate he had taken note of when they approached the fighting grabbed his left hand and held it up directly to the rift. Energy thrummed in between his hand the mark, an unpleasant- although bearable burning sensation and tingling becoming very prominent in his arm. The rift shrunk in size, and his hand was yanked backwards with force and the rift was gone.

The following conversation consisted of the Elf introducing himself as a man named Solas, who apparently was the reason Maxwell had survived as long as he had- the man had watched over him as he lay unconscious after Cassandra’s soldiers had found him. Maxwell had absorbed all of the information eagerly and immediately felt a kindred spirit in the Elf, though there was some sensation that emanated from his left hand that gave him pause- though he soon shook it off as “general breach insanity”. He was then introduced to a man named Varric Tethras, whose name he immediately identified as the companion to Garret Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall. They spoke briefly, and Maxwell took a liking to the Dwarf- and the Dwarf to he, especially after Maxwell complimented his crossbow (which come to find out, was NAMED Bianca).

The group exchanged information, Solas and Cassandra spoke about their next step and the journey to the Forward Camp where Cassandra had sent Leliana was embarked upon.  
More fighting ensued, which became even less of an issue as Maxwell had become more accustomed to wielding the staff once again- though he yearned to have a Spirit Blade to yield as his Knight Enchanter training was only being utilized at about seventy percent in the fights.. as well as being paired with two more very capable allies.

Varric proceeded to prod at Maxwell a few times, somehow being able to near guess his heritage by his accent (though he got a chuckle at the Dwarf’s blatant irritation and not being able to guess Ostwick). As well as begin a mini interrogation, asking the Mage if he truly WAS guilty- to which Maxwell quickly assured not, though the specifics of what had happened were unknown.

They continued to climb the paths that Cassandra assured would lead them to the Camp they were meant to arrive at, and after rounding a corner along the mountain they heard the clashing of weapons and were soon upon yet another rift. They assisted the soldiers, and Maxwell was left to handle the closing of the breach alone this time- which he did with almost as little effort as he wielded a spirit blade.

Solas proceeded to comment on his quickening adjustment to the new skill, to which Maxwell beamed with pride- it only gave him more assurance that he hadn’t been mistaken for the role of First Enchanter of the Ostwick Circle of Magi at such a young age.. even the most foreign and unpredictable of magics and he was managing to learn it in quick strides.

The group proceeded through the gates, as the Soldiers proceeded back to their posts of watch outside of the camp. Once inside Maxwell made note of the few cloth wrapped bodies on the ground. He soon caught sight of Leliana standing near a makeshift war table, accompanied by an older man in chantry garb. As they approached they heard the pair discussing- no, debating quite vigorously.

“We must prepare the soldiers!” Maxwell heard Leliana insist.

“We will do no such thing.” The man retorted, Maxwell made note of the authority arrogance painted blatantly in the man’s voice. He instantly took a disliking to him.

“The prisoner must get to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. It is our only chance!” Leliana stated bluntly.

“You have already caused enough trouble without resorting to this exercise in futility.” The man said, countering her every suggestion and plea. The debating went on, back and forth between the two.

“I have caused trouble?”

“You, Cassandra, the Most Holy – haven’t you all done enough already?”

“You’re not in command here!”

“Enough! I will not have it!”

Maxwell and Cassandra neared the duo, with Solas and Varric trailing slightly behind- displeased looks on their faces as they examined the argument that entailed between Leliana and the man.

“Ah, here they come.” The man acknowledged, sparing them a glance as he disengaged from the heated debate.

“You made it. Chancellor Roderick, this is–” Leliana moved to explain, though was cut off by the man he made note of being Chancellor Roderick. Maxwell was familiar with Chantry and immediately knew this man was definitely going to be a thorn in his side.

“I know who he is. As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution.” Roderick barked, pointing first to Cassandra and then to Maxwell. Maxwell looked at the man with little concern, knowing full well that the order both fell on deaf ears and came from a place lacking of ANY authority.

“Order me? You are a glorified clerk, a bureaucrat!” Cassandra exclaimed, blatantly displeased at the audacious demand of the Chancellor.

“And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!” Roderick retorted icily.

“We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know.” Leliana objected, hoping to quell the man’s fit of orders and authoritative attitude.

“Justinia is dead! We must elect her replacement, and obey her orders on the matter.” Roderick yelled, plainly agitated at Leliana’s attempt to quell him. He then turned from her, and looked at the group of four.

Maxwell stepped forward, soul flaring with the same conviction and assurance he had felt earlier that day. He locked eyes with the Chancellor, and plainly said; “I am Maxwell Aurelius Trevelyan, First Enchanter of the Ostwick Circle of Magi- and proud bearer of the Trevelyan name. I am familiar with men like you, Chancellor Roderick, as am I familiar with the fact that you have no authority in this place- especially as our Most Holy has passed.” The gaze Maxwell locked with the man was one he often gave to unruly Templars that passed through his Circle and attempted to turn it’s foundations on its head- a look that said “I am the Alpha here, and I challenge you to try and pry it from my grasp.”

The Chancellor nearly coughed up a lung from choking, and Maxwell’s allies all but went slack jawed and the show of both authority and clarity. Roderick soon recovered from his choking fit, and while there was now no question as to the true situation- as well as who was in charge, the Chancellor couldn’t deny his nature and angrily spit out; “BECAUSE YOU KILLED HER! THE DIVINE IS DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!”

Maxwell was unmoved, and sensed no further threat from the man. He simply replied “I will not debate my innocence with a man whose own is still in question- but I would advise you to remember that I am the only solution to the problem at hand.” Maxwell smirked at the unintentional pun as glanced down thoughtfully at his hand.

Cassandra chose the brief silence to interject and remind everyone of what was at hand; “We must get to the temple. Marching with our forces is the most viable option.” She said.  
“But not the safest, our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.” Leliana replied thoughtfully.

“We lost contact with an entire squad on that path. It’s too risky.” Cassandra replied, exasperated.

Chancellor Roderick finally stopped his seething and objected; “Listen to me. Abandon this now, before more lives are lost.” He concluded firmly. No one paid him any mind, and Cassandra then turned to Maxwell as the breach sent out another pulse and seemed to grow in the distance. In the same moment Maxwell’s mark flared, drawing everyone’s eyes and the man stared at it.

“How do you think we should proceed?” She asked, urgency tinting her voice.

Maxwell met her gaze and took a moment to consider, the Leader in him ready to contemplate the decision as many lives were on the line with either choice. “Do we march with the soldiers and push through the rifts and demons, or is it wiser to slip through the mountains where Leliana’s scouts were sent?” The man absentmindedly pulled his hand to his face, and cupped his elbow- pondering.

He suddenly looked up, and turned to address the group- we march with our Soldiers, I wish we had the option to pursue Leliana’s scouts as well but we have men and women fighting valiantly on the front lines and we have to ensure they can push through the demons in case we have need of reinforcements once we reach the temple. It will ensure a clear path for others to follow in case we fail and others must take up arms in our steed.” He concluded, without any hesitation in his voice. 

Cassandra and Leliana looked at him, their eyes filled with mild awe as the man who had been a prisoner no more than twelve hours ago was aiding in ensuring the wisest course of action as if he was born to lead. The group nodded, all except Roderick.

“Leliana, Bring everyone left in the valley. Everyone.” Cassandra requested, turning from Maxwell to face her. Leliana quickly nodded response and moved to begin the task.  
Roderick who was positively beside himself with displeasure stared at Cassandra; “On your head be the consequences, Seeker.” He seethed. Maxwell thought he caught her roll her eyes, and was assured when he heard Varric let out a chuckle on accident. Roderick puffed his chest, face absolutely red with rage and stormed off- leaving the group to perform the inevitable.

The group restocked on their supplies and proceeded to embark from the camp, Soldiers swarming from place to place as they embarked uphill through the snow, soon coming upon a southern path filled with stray debris and fires from the chaos. They continued onto the path until it cut west, which led them up a stone path into a camp of sorts- injured soldiers, a few tents, and a war table filled the area as the entered.

The group comes upon a second set of stone stairs and continues upwards. Solas interjects and the group slows their pace; “Be wary- another Fade rift is near.” The elf concludes, eyeing Maxwell as the man’s mark briefly flares. He raises his head to nod in understanding, and the group continues their pace.

They notice the sounds of fighting growing in volume as they approach. As they enter through a stone doorway they are met with the battlefield they had heard, to their left a Shade lunges forward and fells a soldier whom crumples beneath the creatures claws. Maxwell draws his staff, accompanied by his allies preparing themselves as well- they move to charge forward into the fray but Maxwell feels time slow around him as he glances toward the center of the battlefield-

A man, wielding a sword and shield stands in the midst of the chaos. His hair is golden, and his armor is silver- covered in a red fur and red cloth that held to his body enticingly.. as if it was shaped by the Maker himself to be worn. The man is fighting, and WINNING singlehandedly against a Wraith and a Shade. The man strikes out in a curved arc with his sword, striking the Shade through its abdomen resulting in a screech from the creature.

As if second nature, without even sparing the Wraith a glance the man raises his shield to block a projectile from the spirit. He gives the Shade one last parry, stretching his arm high above his head to counter the downward blow from the Shade’s claws and runs the creature through.. his form is precise- expending no unnecessary energy and exhausting no unneeded movement to perform his actions. Sweat coats the man’s brows, a look of fierce determination painted upon his face- a face Maxwell now notices and feels as if he’s taken a blow himself.

The man’s features were that of the sculptures of ancient heroes Maxwell had stared at as a child when his Mother had taken him to the many extravagant parties they were always attending as part of being nobility- with the sharpest of jaw lines and most defined of muscle tones. The type of form that screamed of divinity, and made you feel sure that you were beholding something celestial.

The sight was breathtaking, the man’s jaw clenched in focus and brow furrowed in defiance.. Maxwell examined the eyes that those brows framed, eyes that looked as if someone had poured molten gold into a cast and enchanted it to never cool. His eyes pulsed and beautifully portrayed every emotion he could have felt in that moment of battle; determination, focus, and confidence.. they were eyes you could drown yourself in, like that of a Sea where creatures lull Sailors into depths and die a blissful death in their deepness.

He finally spared the Wraith a glance and pushes forward; the Wraith seems to dance away from the man tauntingly. The Wraith fired off another volley of projectiles, to no avail as the man’s shield skills were exquisite, placating the Wraith’s attacks while attempting to close the gap between them. The man roared, a sound that echoed across the battlefield.. the man sounded like a Lion. And the sound suddenly snapped Maxwell back to real-time.

Things rushed forth around him- Cassandra, Varric, and Solas all engaged in fights with the minor demons as they aided the soldiers. The man Maxwell had lost himself observing was still trying to close in on the Wraith but couldn’t while holding his shield up to wall the projectiles. Maxwell acted quicker than his mind could process and Fade Stepped through the fray to where the man was holding against the Wraith- the man turned, caught off guard by the sudden approach but still holding his shield up- Maxwell was upon the man and the two locked eyes.

It was as if the same trance that had befallen Maxwell had enchanted the Warrior as well, his eyes widened with an emotion Maxwell couldn’t quite spare the energy to read as the man’s shield lowered slightly and the Wraith shot yet another volley at him. Maxwell, who had been near the man’s side and was moving to attack the Wraith changed course as he saw the projectile move for the Warrior- he darted immediately to intercept it, but had no time to conjure a barrier to absorb the bolt of energy so instead lunged to take it full force into his left side.

The man had watched Maxwell make the move, eyes remaining on him and examining him intensely just as Maxwell had done him. Unmoving and still yet to regain his composure until he saw the blow connect with Maxwell’s left side and vault him backwards from the force of the attack, he jumped into action after attaining a semblance of coherency and leaped forward as the Wraith was then focused on Maxwell- which gave the Warrior an opportunity to close the gap and slice forcefully into the creature, causing it to dissipate and send remnants flowing towards the rift which had now been actively placated by the others.

The man turned after dealing the finishing blow to the Wraith and darted to where Maxwell and been shot backwards through the air- Maxwell who was reeling from the blow, but managing to roll off of his side and sit back up, staff sprawled near him on the ground noticed the man suddenly upon him and yelped- expecting it to be the Wraith as he had not managed to witness the Warrior feeling it.

“Are you alright?!” The man exclaimed, eyes focused intently on Maxwell’s face.. then kneeling at his side and reaching to help him up.

Maxwell eased as he saw it wasn’t an enemy and relaxed at the man’s helping hand; he grabbed his staff from his side and moved to stand. Looking to the man after standing to his feet, whose face was lined with a concern it seemed like he was actively trying to get a handle on- though the wrinkles at the side of his eyes golden eyes and the tensing of the man’s neck gave away his worry.

He let go of Maxwell’s arm and preceded take a step back, giving Maxwell a quick look over and easing the tension in his neck as he saw there was no major injuries aside the Maxwell being knocked about.

Before Maxwell could give the man his attention and thank him for helping him up, he had to turn and dart towards where the other’s were finishing their fights. Maxwell reached his marked hand up, for the third time- feeling the energy flow freely between the rift and his hand, he then forcefully pulled it backwards and the rift was gone.

“Maker’s Breath, you closed that rift!” The man exclaimed, shocked. “I don’t know what came over me- I was fending off the creature’s projectiles and then I lowered my shield mindlessly. You darted in front of me to take the blow?! Why in Andraste’s Name would you have done that!” he exclaimed, exasperation and disbelief tinting his voice.

Maxwell, who was taken aback at the exclamation, felt a blush beginning to creep across his cheeks as he locked eyes with the Warrior. He thought to himself how he was going to explain to the man that he had been watching and admiring him, and that when he saw the man at risk for harm he without thinking threw himself in front of him because he didn’t want him harmed. Maxwell recoiled from the thought of having to explain that, gathered himself and settled for saying; “Knight Enchanter training, I forget at times that I’m not a heavily armored Warrior and can’t stop myself from taking blows for others.” He lied, albeit only partially as he rolled his left arm and rubbed his side- aching mildly from the blow.

The man was mildly taken aback at the reply, those overwhelming golden eyes wide with an emotion Maxwell couldn’t read- though it disappeared and the man regained his composure. “Oh.” The man replied a bit surprised, unsure of what else to say.

“Please forgive me for faltering there, I do wish you hadn’t taken the blow for my mistake- it seems I owe you one for that.” The man said, bringing his right hand to rub at the base of his neck.. a shy smile playing at his lips.

Maxwell silently cursed himself as he took in the sight of the man, surely he cannot be real- he must be unconscious again! The blush now fully taking over his cheeks; “I-It was nothing, truly- I’m relieved you’re unharmed- Ser..?” Maxwell replied, hoping to catch a name from the man.

The man returned his hand to his side, his Warrior’s composure returning to his face- though the smile still played at the right corner- where Maxwell now noted a scar was present. He had to pry his eyes away, as the scar was topped his blush off and he had to stop staring at the man or he’d surely make a fool of himself.

“Former Knight-Captain, Commander Cullen Rutherford of Kirkwall..” He said matter-of-factly, his posture going to a soldier’s stance as he extended a hand and inquired; “..and you are?” He stared at Maxwell, waiting intently on the answer.

“Maxwell Aurelius Trevelyan, First Enchanter of the Ostwick Circle of Magi.” He said proudly, extending a hand in turn to shake the man’s hand. The man seemed shocked at the response but grinned eagerly as he shook Maxwell’s hand firmly. The two held the handshake for longer than was necessary as they got mildly lost in their stares.

The two snapped out of their trances as Cassandra and the group of others approached, she cleared her through in an attempt to grab their attentions. Cullen and Maxwell look down at their still joined hands and then at one another, and quickly let go- turning to Cassandra as Maxwell’s cheeks held a fierce blush and Cullen began a coughing fit.

“Trevelyan, I see you’ve met Commander Cullen.” She nodded appreciation to Cullen who managed to stop coughing uncontrollably and said to her; “I was unaware we had a First Enchanter among our ranks of survivors Seeker Cassandra.” He tilted his head to her as he said it.

“This is the man our soldiers recovered from stepping out of the Fade, the one that Solas had been watching over as he held the mark you just witnessed on his hand.” She nodded to the Elf, then to Maxwell.

Cullen was taken aback, looked at Maxwell in disbelief and then to Cassandra; “This is the man, Maker’s Breath I didn’t realize!” Cullen took a step backwards as he gave Maxwell an apprehensive glance.

Maxwell dropped his head, ashamed that he had gained enough notoriety that Cullen was a bit scared of him. Cassandra interjected when she saw his nervousness, as well as Maxwell’s shame; “This young man, while details have still yet to be made clear- has aided us and closed many of the rifts that have been contributing to the battle and deaths of our Scouts and Soldiers. What led up to this is unclear, though there is no doubt that he is an ally to us here and is deserving of everyone’s respect as well as thanks.” She said matter-of-factly, Maxwell looked at her mouth agape- unbelieving of her praise.

Solas and Varric both nodded their agreement and shot reassuring looks to both Cullen and Maxwell- Maxwell who nodded thanks in response once he regained his composure.. and Cullen who approached the man once again. He lifted his right hand across his chest and bowed slightly; “My apologies Lord Trevelyan, I had no idea that you had played such an active role is aiding us- with all of the rumors and accusations that have been spread the last few days I hadn’t known what to think of the man everyone has been speaking of.” He locked eyes with Maxwell, shame painted across those quintessential golden eyes. “I hope you will forgive my behavior, it was misplaced, and you did save me from a blow in battle.”

Maxwell’s blush was positively uncontrollable now, he managed to stutter a reply; “N-n-no harm done, Ser R-Rutherford- I am the o-one who is proving himself to y-your f-forces, not the other way around.” He said reassuringly, albeit he spewed it out in a sense and said it a bit louder than he intended to.

Cullen nodded at him, the smile playing at the right side of his mouth again as Maxwell noted- until he saw Cullen’s scar again and had to immediately adjust his focus to the very intriguing rocks at his feet. Cullen turned to Cassandra, making note of Maxwell’s mindless observing of him and blushing a little though he desperately tried to control it as he quickly addressed Cassandra; “Seeker, what’s going on at current? Do we have a way to handle the breach at the Temple of Sacred Ashes?” He asked eagerly, though there was a little exasperation laced in his voice.

Solas replied this time instead of Cassandra, saying; “It would seem that Lord Trevelyan holds the key to our salvation. As you witnessed moments ago, Maxwell retains the ability to close the minor rifts that are releasing demons across this area- I have theorized that if we can take him directly to the source of it all he can close the maelstrom that is overtaking our sky.” He concluded, content with his hypothesis.

Cassandra watched him intently, then nodded and turned to Cullen; “Solas is correct, our current plan is to meet Leliana and her men at the Temple and attempt to seal it there.” She said.

“I see.” Cullen said, processing everything- then turned to Maxwell. “I would venture to the Temple with you but there are other matters that are pressing and I don’t think our soldiers could spare me for the journey.” He nodded sadly, eyes lingering on Maxwell’s jawline.

Maxwell looked upwards, after being thoroughly thorough with his examination of the rocks at his feet. He turned to Cullen and nodded thoughtfully; “A leader is needed here, Commander- your soldiers need you.” He smiled.

Varric and Solas gathered themselves, and Cassandra reminded them of the urgency at hand- then urged them onwards. Maxwell and Cullen shook hands once more, eyes briefly locking but not being granted enough time to fall back into another trance- Cullen felt the blush creeping back as he quickly took Maxwell’s features in and then darted off back towards his injured soldiers.

Maxwell gathered himself as Cullen departed, allowed himself a quick glance backward to catch Ser Rutherford leaving and then pushed onwards with the others- approaching the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

The Temple was in absolute shambles, Maxwell audibly gasped as he saw what had been made of the once beautiful sanctuary. There were rock formations overtaking structures everywhere, burning debris, multitudes of corpses.. it was absolutely horrific to see it like this.

Solas acknowledged Maxwell’s mix of emotions and quietly said; “The Temple of Sacred Ashes..”

Varric, close to them overheard and replied; “What’s left of it at least..” shaking his head.

As they approached an entrance to the temple that was still accessible, Cassandra turned to Maxwell and then pointed into the Temple where he could make our what seemed like a very large rift- which upon further examination was a part of the massive breach that shot high into the sky; “That is where you walked out the Fade and our soldiers found you. They said a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was.” She said, hoping to instill some clarity as she saw Maxwell near overwhelmed at the sight of everything.

Varric stepped forward and stood beside them, glancing up at the breach and said to Maxwell without breaking eye contact with the breach; “The breach is a long way up.” Maxwell nodded to him in response.

They heard footsteps approach them from behind, then a familiar voice call out; “You’re here! Thank the Maker.” Leliana said, relief flooded in her voice as she and a group of soldiers and scouts approached them.

“Leliana, have your men take up positions around the temple.” Cassandra said to her, nodding gratefully and pointing to where she needed the men to be. Leliana nodded in understanding, walking away with her men to give instructions.

Cassandra turned to Maxwell, a mix of emotions clouding her usually steely composure.

“This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?” She asked, a tone of hesitation in her voice. She eyed him carefully as she awaited a reply.  
Maxwell locked eyes with her, conviction once again flooding him as reassurance rested in the pit of his stomach; “This is it, we will succeed here or die trying. I don’t have the slightest idea how to get up there though.” He glanced up to the breach, a puzzled expression gracing his features.

Solas stepped forward beside the pair, interjecting; “No, as I said to the Commander- this rift was the first and is the key. Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach.” He nodded reassuringly, confident in his theory.

“Then let’s find a way down. And be careful.” Cassandra said, moving forward into the central area of what used to be the Temple.

Maxwell nodded, and followed suit.

What ensued were echoes of what Solas explained to be the last moments before the explosion. Cassandra desperately asked for more details upon hearing the Divine cry out through the echoes- there were other voices as well, a grizzly male voice speaking about a sacrifice, and then Maxwell’s. The Divine called out to him for aid in the echoes, and then there was a command made by the grizzly male’s voice ordering whoever else was present to slay him. 

Cassandra attempted to ask Maxwell what happened, and why he was there, or why the Divine called out to him- but Maxwell simply did not recall and had no answers for the Warrior. They continued their approach until they were directly underneath the rift.

“This rift is not sealed, but it is closed… albeit temporarily. I believe with the mark, the rift can be opened and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side.” Solas explained to the group, gazing at the rift.

“That means demons. Stand ready!” Cassandra ordered to the soldiers that were scoured across the ruins.

Maxwell then stepped forward, gazing upon the rift with a determined look- he moved to hold his marked hand up and connect the energy from the rift to it. He was flooded with the images that gave him the will to push onward in the hardest moments, the memories that came to his aid when he needed encouragement..

His family sending him off to the circle at 10, pride in their eyes where most families would have been filled with fear or sorrow. Another flashed, overcoming his harrowing at age 12- having become one of the youngest individuals in the history of the Free Marches to become a full fledged Member of the Circle. A final memory, being recognized as a leader at age 17- just one year ago, and being named First Enchanter, First KNIGHT Enchanter of the Ostwick Circle of Magi..

But now, there was one more added onto the list. A memory pulsed through his mind; Walking through a stone doorway, a battlefield sprawled in front of him. A soldier is cut down to his left by a demon, and the clashing of swords rings in his ears. And across the field he notices a man standing toe to toe against two demons, and time slows. The man was the true embodiment of divinity, and it took Maxwell’s breath away.. chiseled jaw, eyes of molten gold, lips with a scar that made his knees weak. 

The memory flooded Maxwell with a sense of yearning; he knew he couldn’t fail at this moment. He was posed with an inevitable task, but he COULD NOT fail- he had to know that man.. he had to know Commander Cullen.

The mark connected with the rift and ripped it open with a roar, and then the world went dark.


End file.
